self portrait via life-draw

she bears a tattoo
that adorns the skin of her back
like remnant lace
from the rumple of a negligee
tossed carelessly away

his head is drawn as round as a circle
and overly tiny

I find proportion
is not a sense that I possess
at all

her hair has proved impossible to tame
and over-flows a poor arrangement
barely held in place
by a green rubber band

these pictures
my scribbles scrawls and scratches
are impressed on the now-smudged white
of a sheet of cartridge paper
but
always somehow it seems
I rend them better
penned and then re-worked
into the phrases I find most familiar
until
here I am
etching a silhouette of myself again
charcoaled and inked
into queer shaped stanzas

this drawing from life
is not really a new thing
it seems it’s just another portrait
in the usual words
that are me